


Food Speaks Louder Than Words (And Tastes Better)

by RomeandOtherHistory



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: (See chapters for TW), Cuddles, Did I mention fluff?, Falling In Love, Fluff, Food, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Love Languages, Polyamory, They're just all so cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, lots and lots of fluff, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:29:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomeandOtherHistory/pseuds/RomeandOtherHistory
Summary: A series of cute, fluffy oneshots as my brain comes up with them. Enjoy :) (Also let's pretend the boys can eat and that the entire Molina family can see them.)PROMPT SUGGESTIONS/REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Relationships: Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Juke - Relationship, Jukebox - Relationship, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters, Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Rukebox, Willex - Relationship, ruke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	1. Luke/Julie

Luke was in a mood. The more Julie got to know him, she knew that when Luke got irritable it usually meant that something had happened to him or was bothering him that he was refusing to tell them about. He wasn't really the best at communication, and so Julie usually had to be the one to ask him what was bothering him. But today, Luke had grown frustrated over a set of lyrics he couldn't match a good melody to, ripped the page in half, and then disappeared into a locked room. Julie asked Reggie and Alex to ask him what was bothering him, but they both shook their heads and muttered something about Luke being dramatic. 

"He'll be fine, Julie," Alex assured her. "He's moody today, that's all. We all have those days." 

"Yeah but Luke isn't usually like this when he's upset." Julie sighed, looking over at the door. "He usually asks if he can get a hug or something. And he doesn't usually get upset over music." 

"Julie's right," Reggie agreed with Julie. "I think I know why he's upset." 

He glanced over at Alex, who mouthed "oh" silently before nodding, speaking in a hushed voice so Luke couldn't have any chance of hearing. "He's upset because today is his mom's birthday, and he can't do anything for her. Birthdays were always a big occasion at his house. They'd do everything they could to make it that person's best day of the year." 

"He was already upset that he couldn't do it for his own birthday but...Luke really likes making other people happy. Especially being able to do something that made his mom happy always got Luke pumped," Reggie explained. "Their favorite thing to do was spend the entire day making a huge dinner. That was their thing. Alex and I couldn't even get within a hundred feet of that house when it was his mom's birthday because he wanted that to be his time with her and his dad." 

"Luke? Cooking?" Julie let out a small snort. "He almost set our microwave on fire last week trying to heat up macaroni." 

"I know, right? It's unbelievable," Alex chuckled. "But that was his thing, and he was extra-careful so that he could get everything perfect for his mom." 

Julie glanced over at the closed door Luke was hiding behind, her slight smile fading. "What do you think I could do?" 

"Well, I don't think you should do anything for Emily. It'd be kinda weird if you just happened to know when her birthday was," Alex decided. "It'd be nice, but she'd also wonder how you knew. So...yeah, don't do that." 

"Makes sense." Julie nodded. "So...we just gotta wait until Luke feels better by himself?" 

"I think waiting it out is going to be the best option," Reggie said. "Does this mean that practice is over?" 

"Yeah, we can't really do anything until those lyrics have a melody. I'm gonna go see Willie." Alex poofed out of the studio before Reggie or Julie could protest. 

"I...guess I'm heading off too, then. I promised Carlos that once practice was done I'd go play a few rounds of HORSE with him." Reggie poofed away as well, leaving Julie alone in the studio. 

Sitting on the couch, Julie wondered what she could do for Luke. Ever since they started dating, it had become painfully obvious to Julie that Luke didn't like to bother others with his problems, even if those problems really hurt him emotionally, mentally, and/or physically. He just didn't want to feel like others were carrying his burden for him, but Julie didn't see it in that way. It was supposed to be mutual. She could talk about anything with him, so he should be able to do the same. It was clearly a learning process for Luke. 

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in her head. Julie stood up and walked outside to the basketball hoop, where Reggie stood patiently with a basketball as Carlos drew out a scoreboard for their game of HORSE, Reggie grinning when Julie appeared. 

"What's up?" he asked. "Come to watch the showdown?" 

"Ha! There won't even be a showdown! You lost within the first two minutes of the last game!" Carlos reminded Reggie triumphantly. 

Reggie pouted, and Julie laughed. "Don't be so sure, Carlos, he's been practicing. And no, I'm not here to watch. I have a question to ask you." 

"Shoot." Reggie began dribbling the ball, Julie knowing he had to be moving in some way to best focus on her words. 

"What kinds of food did Luke and his mom make?" she asked. 

Reggie looked thoughtfully down at the ball he was bouncing on the sidewalk below. "It was...various different dinners. But I think I remember him saying that his mom really loved pineapple-onion pork chops...and they'd grill a kebob of shrimp...one for each of them...potato roses...and then they'd have a giant coconut cake. That's the meal I remember him raving about the most. Why?" 

Julie shrugged. "Just curious." 

Eyebrows creasing as he thought for a moment, Reggie lit up as he put the puzzle pieces together. "You're going to cook a special meal with Luke!" 

"Maybe. Depends on if I can buy all the ingredients on time." Julie pulled her phone out of her pocket and called Flynn, only waiting for the duration of one ring until she picked it up. "Hey Flynn, I need to go to the store. Wanna come with me?" 

"Oooo doing something special for the boyfriend?" Flynn asked. 

"How'd you know?" 

"A best friend always knows, girl. Just give me ten minutes, Jules, then I'll be right there." 

...

Thanks to Flynn, Julie's shopping trip went really fast and she was back home before two, giving her a reasonable amount of time to start working. But, there was something she had to do first. Reggie and Carlos had moved inside the house and were now playing a game of chess, leaving the studio and the area around it dead silent. As quietly as possible, Julie opened the door of the studio and glanced inside. Luke was laying on the couch, a blanket around his shoulders, back towards the door. Tiptoeing over to him, Julie sat by his head. 

"Hey," she greeted him quietly, seeing that he was awake. "Are you okay?" 

Luke didn't reply but shifted so that his head was on her lap, his hand grabbing at hers and messing with her fingers. Twisting the ring she hand on, pulling at the strings on her bracelet. Julie let him do his thing as she sat there in silence with him, running a hand through his hair. Sometimes, before Luke would talk, he needed some quiet. 

"I just don't feel great today," Luke finally whispered. 

"That's odd. I thought that ghosts couldn't get sick," Julie teased him. "Any other reason?"

"No, not like I'm sick. I'm just not happy." Luke paused, gently squeezing her hand. "Your hands are small." 

"Do you want to go make dinner with me?" Julie offered. 

That made Luke look up at her. "What?" 

"Do you want to make dinner with me?" Julie asked again. "I have some really cool recipes in mind, and I thought you'd like to help." 

"Can't anyone help you?" 

"Don't be rude. Reggie's with Carlos, my dad has to work, Alex is with Willie, and Flynn has too much homework." Julie stared at him with pleading eyes. "Please?" 

"Fine," Luke muttered, finally sitting up. "What're we making?" 

"I'll show you once we're in the kitchen," Julie told him. "Now go wash up. I don't care if you're a ghost I still don't want to risk getting germs in the food." 

He nodded and poofed into the bathroom, Julie standing up and walking out of the studio and into the house. A few moments after walking into the kitchen, Luke appeared at her side. Julie wordlessly pulled out the recipes she'd found online, Luke picking them up off of the counter. 

"Pineapple pork?" he said almost inaudibly. 

"I thought it sounded good. You love Hawaiin pizza, and this is basically the ham and the pineapple just...without the pizza part," Julie told him. "Does it sound good?" 

There was a small gleam in Luke's eyes and a tiny smile pulled at his lips. "Yeah. It does sound good." 

The more time they spent cooking, the happier Luke seemed to get until he was laughing and telling Julie about something funny that happened when he was in the fourth grade. The more Luke talked, the happier that meant he was. The fact that Julie could hardly get more than a "what?" or a "no way!" in between breaths of his story was a really, really good sign.

Once they got to the potato roses, Julie had never seen him so careful about anything other than music. Luke carefully sliced the potatoes as thin as possible, lining them up carefully on a strip of bacon and rolling them tightly. Then, he meticulously shifted and moved each potato slice until it looked perfectly like a rose bloom. Oddly beautiful for something that they were going to eat. 

It was only at the grilled shrimp did Luke start to make a connection between the food and the date, his smile faltering before disappearing altogether. 

"And then what happened?" Julie asked, prompting him to continue his story of the time he put worms in the lunch of someone who bullied Reggie. "Luke?" 

She turned and saw that his eyes were red from tears beginning to form. "You know, don't you?"

"Know what?" Julie put down the rosemary she was using to season the shrimp, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 

In one step, he swooped her up into his arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you." 

They stood there, hugging-Julie on her tiptoes so she could hug his neck-for a long time. "It's really nothing, Luke, it's just food that I thought would cheer you up." 

"No, it's not nothing, Bunny." Luke used the nickname he called Julie when he felt extra-loving. "You have no clue how much this means to me. Food is, like, SUPER important in my family. It means things. And this tells me a lot." 

Julie snickered, stepping back and ruffling Luke's hair. "Your hands are covered in gross raw shrimp juice, Honeybear." 

"'Bunny?' 'Honeybear?' Really?" Julie and Luke turned to see Reggie and Carlos standing in the entryway into the kitchen. "GAG." 

"Looks like we have company Bunny," Luke snorted, kissing Julie's cheek. 

"Yes, Honeybear, it does." Julie made her voice annoyingly sweet before returning Luke's kiss, Carlos making more retching noises in the background. "Dinner won't be ready for another hour. Shoo, or we'll start kissing on the lips." 

"RUN REGGIE!" Carlos grabbed Reggie's hand, pulling him out of the kitchen with him as he retreated. "They'll infect us!" 

"With what?" Reggie asked, his voice fading away as he and Carlos disappeared back upstairs. 

Julie rolled her eyes. "And that's why we use those names in private." 

"Yeah, now that I think about it, it felt weird saying that in the middle of your kitchen," Luke agreed. "Can we start the cake now?" 

"Let's see, the pork is cooking, the shrimp are ready to go on the grill, and we can't cook the potatoes until the pork is done...Sure!" Julie pulled out the cake recipe. "So, what did you mean by food being really important in your family?" 

Luke washed the 'shrimp juice' off of his hands. "Well, ever since I was little, my mom would teach me how to cook things. Also, it was really how we communicated with each other. Food meant comfort and quality time. If I was sad, my mom would always make me cookies. So, when she was sad and I was old enough to use the oven, I'd do the same for her. Also, I learned that if you tell someone you like some kind of food and they go out of their way to buy it or make it for you, just to see you happy from eating something you like, that means they really care about you." 

"So you weren't kidding about it being important." 

"Not at all." Luke shook his head. "You helping me make my mom's birthday dinner speaks volumes to me. More than any comforting words you could've said." 

"So to you, food speaks louder than words, huh?" Julie paused to hug his waist. 

"And it tastes better," Luke laughed. "But I think you need to be shown how thankful I am." 

He turned around and kissed her, caressing her face with flour-covered hands despite having cleaned them only moments before. "I love you, Julie Molina." 

"And I love you, Luke Patterson," Julie said fondly, smudging a streak of flour across his nose.


	2. Deaf!Luke x Julie (Part One)

(TW: Severe Illness IDK if this is a trigger but I just want to be careful)   
(Kind of a high school AU as none of them die and also Julie is with them in school) 

Luke wasn't born deaf. He makes sure to let people know that if they ask. Sometimes even if they don't. He didn't know why, but it felt like it made them treat him less like a child. Though sometimes it backfired and they felt even worse for him and babied him ever-more. It drove him insane, but there wasn't much he could do about it. 

He was ten when he contracted meningitis. At first, they thought it was just a cold due to Luke's constant complaining about a sore neck and head, along with the headaches he was getting. Two days after, though, Luke woke up with the highest fever his parents had ever seen. Even with a fever of 104.3 (40.2C), Luke felt like ice. No amount of blankets or hot tea could warm him as his dad paced frantically, 911 on the phone and his mom piled more blankets on him. 

They told his parents not to worry. Yet. The fever was not over 105 degrees, so Luke didn't need to go to the hospital unless the fever of 104.3 got worse. So, for now, they had to wait. He heard his parents' hushed voices just outside his door as he tried desperately to sleep despite the hammering pain in his head. They were saying that they didn't have the insurance to take him to the hospital. There was no way they could pay for even an overnight stay or even for a visit to the doctor's to get him diagnosed. If they had to, of course, they'd take Luke to the hospital, but it would put them into debt they weren't sure they could get out of for-at the very least-a few months. 

The next morning, Luke felt like he was filled with molten glass and then packed with ice. Everything hurt. The temperature was all wrong and he felt heavy and even lifting his head to look around was a struggle. He swallowed, his throat feeling like needles. Silent, burning tears dripped down his face. Luke needed to pretend that he was okay. So his parents didn't have to spend money on him. He knew it'd be too hard for them to take him to the hospital. 

But you couldn't hide a fever of 106.8 (41.5C) from a thermometer. 

The diagnosis was quick, and he was given antibiotics, Tylenol, and instructions on what to do if his fever didn't go down within the next few hours. The Tylenol broke his fever, but Luke was still miserable. He felt like he could sleep forever and yet when he closed his eyes, he could only toss and turn. Finally, after several hours of trying to sleep, Luke fell into a light slumber. 

When he woke up, Luke was still feeling sore and his head was pounding, but at least he wasn't as bad as before. Something still felt off, though. He felt like he had a pillow wrapped around his head, making noise muffled. It was rather annoying, everything sounding like he had earplugs in, and Luke found himself occasionally grabbing at his ears to try and rip something off or out of them so that he could hear better. But there was nothing there. 

Even though this scared Luke badly, he tried to hide it from his parents. They were already trying to figure out how to deal with the bills from the hospital. Even at ten, it seemed so stupid to Luke that for a diagnosis and some medication, the hospital threw his parents right back into debt after they'd spent all additional money for years to try and pay off other debts. He didn't want this to become more numbers on their bill. 

That afternoon, his fever came back. Back to around 104, so he didn't need to go back to the hospital, but his parents still kept an eye on him. The Tylenol once again broke his fever, he took his antibiotics, and then he went back to bed, sleeping a bit sounder than the night before. 

That morning, his hearing was even worse. His parents had to snap to get his attention and sometimes he didn't even notice that. Luke could tell they were a bit worried, but then they remembered that inattentiveness was a side effect of the sickness. Relief filled Luke's chest. They didn't need to know about his hearing. 

This went on for days. Luke's hearing getting progressively worse and worse, his fever always breaking but always coming back with vigor. It eventually went down, but, with a normal temperature also came silence. 

Luke couldn't hear anything. 

Well, not anything. He could still faintly hear motorcycles occasionally passing his house or the neighbors-who had heavy machinery-renovating their house. Loud things like that. Now Emily and Mitch were worried about Luke's lack of attention and the fact that it took lots of snapping and clapping and shouting to get him to look over at them. It wasn't the noise that caught Luke's attention, though, it was the movement out of the corner of his eye. When Emily had to wave her hand in front of his face to get him to look at her and she said something but no words reached Luke's ears, he started to cry. 

He was diagnosed with profound deafness. He couldn't hear anything under ninety decibels. Not that Luke had any clue what that meant. All that meant to him was silence, quiet, and...no music. Ever. Never again. How was he supposed to tell Alex and Reggie? He hadn't seen them at all for the last week and a half. They'd called him, and he'd told them that he was going to be fine. But now he was going to show up at school, deaf and without any way to know what people were saying or doing. 

Luke could've gotten a cochlear transplant, but his parents just couldn't afford it. He assured him that he was okay; he'd get by somehow. But Luke was dreading the school day. 

"Luke!" Reggie exclaimed the second his friend appeared on the schoolyard, running over to him and Alex close behind. 

He and Alex wrapped Luke in a big, tight hug, Luke tensing underneath them. He hadn't expected them, not being able to hear Reggie's shout from across the playground. Alex and Reggie backed away, confused as to why Luke wasn't returning their hug and why he seemed to be so surprised by their appearance. 

"Are you okay?" Alex asked. 

Looking at the ground, Luke swallowed. "I can't hear you." 

...

Luke sat on the far side of the cafeteria at an empty table, tapping his pen against his lips as he tried to figure out what the next verse of his newest song would be. Being deaf in ninth grade meant that he didn't have a lot of friends, but Luke was fine with that. Attempting to read lips in a conversation where no sign language was used was difficult, and although he'd gotten hearing aids a few months ago, he hated how they felt and after years of nearly constant silence, the noise was a lot to handle. It was overwhelming and even though it was still often muffled, it was annoying. Besides, who needed several friends when you had three who were willing to do anything to communicate with you?

A tap on his shoulder made Luke turn around to Reggie's grinning face. "I made cookies. Want some?" 

As he spoke, Reggie held up a bag with cookies, making the sign for a question-which was the shape of a question mark drawn into the air-and then "want," which he set the bag down to use both hands for the sign-holding his hands out palms up and then making a grabbing motion as he pulled his arms towards himself. 

Luke smiled and nodded. "For sure. They're really making sure you guys stay fed in that cooking class, huh?" 

Reggie laughed, sitting beside him. "Oh yeah. We're doing simple stuff right now, like cookies and somewhat-fancy sandwiches. Basics. But it's so much fun." 

"I'm sure it's better than my cosmetology class," Alex snorted as he came to sit across from Luke and Reggie, making the sign for "makeup" and "class" after he set his tray down. Even little signs here and there would help Luke understand the context of what was being said, even if he missed them by not paying attention to their lips. 

"I thought you liked cosmetology?" Luke asked. "Like REALLY liked it." 

"Yeah, there was that cute boy there...Willie, right?" Reggie and Luke glanced at each other knowingly, smirking at Alex's instant blush. 

"Whatever," Alex muttered. 

"It's not just 'whatever,' man," Bobby snickered as he slid beside Alex. "I heard that he somehow ended up in your lap today." 

"It was to apply eyeliner!" Alex protested. "To get a better angle!" 

"Uh-huh." Bobby had a wicked grin on his face as he turned to Luke, raising his hands to sign along with his words. "So dude, tell us about your love life. How's it going with making a move on that Julie girl in music class?" 

Just thinking about Julie made Luke's stomach twist and his heart leap. "I...haven't talked to her since last week." 

"Luke, you haven't even had a proper conversation with her!" Reggie exclaimed. "And you didn't 'talk' to her last week you just complimented her solo-which, might I include, you didn't even HEAR-and then ran out of the room." 

Pouting, Luke lightly punched Reggie's arm. "I could hear it!... Kind of. I had hearing aids that day, remember? What I could hear sounded really good and also no one else was complimenting her so I thought I'd say I liked it." 

"Dude, you're a disaster," Bobby snorted. "Just trust me on this, Luke, she's totally into you!" 

"You have to just take a chance and talk to her, man," Alex added. 

"And who knows? Maybe you'll end up falling in love, start dating, get married, and write some killer music and have some insanely talented babies," Reggie added. "Worst-case scenario is that you get rejected. You just gotta have at least a single conversation with her!" 

"I'll talk to her the day Alex admits that he likes Willie," Luke countered, causing Alex to sputter indignantly. "See? Stop being a hypocrite. And Reggie, don't talk about me having babies with a girl I hardly know. That's creepy." 

"I'm not saying you WILL I'm just saying it's possible," Reggie defended himself. "Now I'm pretty sure you said you wanted some of my cookies..." 

"YES." 

...

Music class always made Luke's nerves go haywire. He was always grateful for Alex, Reggie, and Bobby figuring out ways that he could still be involved with music, but he always feared that it would never be enough. Of course, he'd heard of deaf musicians before, but he just never thought he'd be able to do it. Also, the fact that Julie Molina was in his class didn't make things any better. 

Luke had seen her around since seventh grade but had never worked up the courage to talk to her. What if she thought he was a freak? What if she treated him like something fragile or like a child? Luke hated it when people babied him, treating him like someone who couldn't take care of himself. If Julie was anything like that...he'd go insane. 

As he tuned his guitar, a paper airplane suddenly appeared at his feet. Looking around, Luke couldn't see who threw it. He rolled his eyes, thinking it was Bobby who was sitting across the room with a group of girls. But when he glared at him, Bobby gave him a confused look until Luke held up the airplane and Bobby shook his head. Nope. Not Bobby. 

Looking back down at the airplane, Luke realized that there was writing on it. He unfolded the plane carefully to not rip it. The writing was very pretty, done in a glittery purple ink. "Want to be partners? The teacher just announced a group project." There was a smiley face, but no name linking it to anyone. Luke was bewildered. Alex and Reggie were sitting behind him and Luke couldn't think of anyone else who'd want to be his partner. 

Alex tapped his shoulder, waiting for Luke to turn around and face him to speak. "Luke, Julie wrote that!" 

"What?" Luke felt faint, and he looked over and Julie, who was easy to spot even across the room with her pretty, curly brown hair and butterfly hairclips. 

She looked up and waved at him, giving him a brilliant smile. Luke felt weak, but smiled back, held up the note, and nodded. The relief and joy that sparked in her eyes were beautiful, visible even a hundred feet away in the huge music room. Julie stood up, grabbed her backpack, and quickly walked across the room until she stood in front of Luke. 

"Hi." She held out her hand. "I'm Julie." 

Luke smiled softly at her before taking her hand and shaking it. "Hello. I'm Luke. I'm...um...sorry in advance if this is difficult for you. I...I'm deaf so sometimes I might not catch what you're saying." 

Julie smiled ever-wider, raising her hands and in perfect ASL said: "I've been wanting to talk to you for a long time, and I even tried one time and you didn't respond so I realized you couldn't hear me. I started taking ASL lessons because I really wanted to talk to you." 

This touched Luke in a way he couldn't explain. "Thank you. That's...really, really nice. I've been wanting to talk to you too, but I was scared that you wouldn't like me." 

"Really? Luke, you're awesome! Who couldn't like you? That song you wrote a week ago was incredible! How do you play music, by the way?" Julie seemed genuinely interested. 

"Well, I always have this tuner on my guitar, and it's a lot of memorization of cords..." 

...

Once music class ended, Luke couldn't stop grinning. He could tell that Bobby, Alex, and Reggie wanted to talk to him really, really bad but they couldn't as long as they were in class. But the second they were on the bus to go to Bobby's house, they immediately closed in on him, Alex and Bobby leaning over the back of their seats to talk to him and Reggie sitting beside him, all of them begging him to tell him what happened. 

"Guys, slow down! I can't read your lips all at once!" Luke exclaimed. "One at a time, starting with Reggie." 

"Why him?" Bobby complained. 

"Because he's my favorite." Luke rolled his eyes as he turned to Reggie. "What is it."

"Dude JULIE made the first move!" Reggie's excited grin was near-psychotic. "We TOLD you she was into you!" 

"How did it go?" Bobby asked. "You practically exploded when she started using ASL." 

"It went really well." Luke's smile nearly broke his face. "We're working on a song called 'Perfect Harmony.' And...we have a date on Friday."

"No way!" they all exclaimed. 

Bobby elbowed Alex. "Come on, dude, you gotta ask Willie out now. LUKE has a date before you." 

"And before you," Alex retorted, Bobby's face going red. "At least I have someone who I think is interested in me. Loser." 

An argument started between the three boys, Luke chuckling to himself as he pulled out the carefully folded paper with the lyrics to "Perfect Harmony" written on them. He read them before folding the paper back up and holding it close to his heart. Julie Molina asked HIM on a date. THE Julie Molina. The most beautiful girl he'd ever laid eyes on. 

Luke couldn't be happier.


	3. OCD!Alex x Willie

(TW: Depictions of OCD behaviors and invasive thoughts, some of which are somewhat violent but they aren't described in detail, panic/anxiety attack. I know that OCD behaviors are in a spectrum and so this shows a more extreme example of OCD) 

Ever since Alex was little, he had what his father would call "meaningless, impulsive behaviors." When he was four he started to throw a fit every time different foods touched each other on the plate. His mashed potatoes absolutely could not touch his corn, his pancakes couldn't be in the bacon grease, and his pie absolutely could not be sitting that close to the green beans. His fits had nothing to do with the mixing flavors. In fact, Alex had no idea why this was such a huge deal to him, as he wasn't a picky eater by any means. 

Alex's room had to be perfect. When he was six he asked for bins and he spent seven hours labeling them with messy first-grader handwriting and putting all of his things into them. Then, he rarely took anything out of them ever again. When his mother demanded to know why he refused to use the toys his grandma gave him, Alex said that he was scared of leaving it on the floor, tripping on it in the middle of the night, and splitting his head open, and dying. He'd heard his parents talking about a girl down the street that had to go to the hospital because she hit her head on her table as she walked around in the night. The last thing Alex wanted to do was end up in the hospital or dead. 

The older he got, the more "Meaningless, impulsive behaviors" he got. After his family's house got broken into when he was seven, Alex absolutely had to go around every single night locking all the doors and windows, checking out the windows two or three times before closing the curtains before he felt safe. When he was nine, Alex fell out of his bed in the middle of the night and broke his arm, so, once back home, he got all the pillows and blankets that he could and laid them out around his bedroom floor so that if he were to fall again he wouldn't get hurt. Other behaviors had nothing to do with personal experiences, such as when he'd constantly set the thermostat at 72 degrees (22C) no matter what season it was, or when he'd count all the windows on a house and think "that's how many ways someone could be staring at me or I could be staring at someone," or the fact that he felt panic shoot through him every time one foot stepped on a crack in the sidewalk and the other didn't. His feet felt weird and he couldn't keep walking until he took a step back and touched the sidewalk crack with his other foot. 

There was no rhyme or reason to his behaviors, and Alex knew this, but his brain kept pulling up terrifying visuals of what would happen if he didn't do these things. For example, if he didn't tap his windows five times each with his finger then his dad would get a heart attack and die. Were those things correlated? Alex knew that they weren't. But over and over again his brain would play the image of his dad falling to the ground and dying, laying in a hospital and his heart monitor stilling into a straight line until Alex stood up, tapped all the windows five times, and then the images would stop. 

For a while. 

He was eternally grateful for Luke and Reggie and their patience with his odd behaviors. Alex still had no clue what purpose they had or why he seemed to be the only person who thought that if he didn't stand up and walk a circle around his desk three times then a sinkhole would open up under the school and swallow them up so he absolutely HAD to walk around his desk three times to save everyone. Luke and Reggie would often jump up and join in his behaviors so that he didn't seem like the only fool in the class. Alex was annoyed by it at first and the fact that they all got detention for "purposefully planning to disrupt the class," but the more he thought about it, Luke and Reggie had pulled all the eyes of the class away from him and to themselves. 

They had saved him from a lot of embarrassment. 

Having anxiety didn't help with these behaviors either. They only made them worse, forcing him to go through them again and again before he felt satisfied with the results. The worst impulses were when Alex didn't feel like he could be clean. These were rare days where Alex just constantly felt dirty and like he could feel dirt and germs crawling all over his skin and no matter how many times he washed his hands he felt like they were still caked in mud that wasn't there. One time he'd washed them so many times that they had begun to bleed so badly that the water flowing into the sink turned a bright red, but Alex still kept washing until Luke made him stop. 

"You need to get help," Luke whispered as he wrapped up Alex's hands with bandages. "I'm okay with you throwing pillows all over my room when we have a sleepover, I'm okay with you turning lights on and off, and I'm okay with whatever makes you wander around the house at midnight to check all the windows and doors. But I'm not okay with the fact that it's making you hurt yourself." 

Alex was about to say something when a horrible, terrible thought came into his head, practically screaming at him. "HURT HIM." 

He retreated away from Luke as far as he could, which was just the other side of Luke's small room, back pressed against the wall. He slid down the surface until he was sitting on the floor, where he brought his head to his knees in a sort of fetal position. Alex was horrified at himself. How could he think such an awful thing? The last thing Alex ever wanted to do was hurt Luke. Or ANYONE for that matter. 

"Hey." Luke knelt in front of him. "Alex, are you okay?" 

"No," Alex choked out. "Luke I'm not okay." 

Alex was thirteen when he was finally diagnosed with OCD and put on medication. Along with that, he went to therapy once or twice a week. But Alex had the unrealistic expectation that these would cure his OCD. They did lighten the impulsive, making them hardly whisper or even nonexistent during the day. But at night it was as if his intrusive thoughts had to make up for the lost time during the day. So, he still had his nightly rituals: lay pillows and blankets on the floor, and lock all doors and windows after looking out of them to make sure no one came in and murdered his family. 

Thankfully, he no longer cared about his food touching. 

When he was fifteen, Alex came out as gay to his parents. Sure, they'd been strict and harsh on him. But...they loved him, right? They'd said to him over and over "love thy neighbor as thyself," and taught him to never judge another person. No matter what be loving and kind and understanding. But then...why was he now standing on his doorstep with a hastily packed bag and tears in his eyes? 

After that, his medication only lasted so long. He had almost no way to buy more especially since he was a minor and also the band was hardly starting to get gigs. Whenever Alex played, it was almost like was pounding his invasive thoughts right out of his head. But it only brought temporary peace. As the weeks progressed, his invasive thoughts only got worse and worse, screaming almost constantly in his head and they could never be silenced. 

He hardly got any sleep. Everything looked, smelled, and was wrong. Food was a pain to get down as apparently everything was unhealthy in some way and he felt like he was constantly sitting in filthy sludge no matter how many times he cleaned, showered, and washed his hands. Every time he put on clothes he felt like he was wrapping himself up in a sack of muck. He washed his clothes again and again until they were bleached, pale, and so fragile that they were falling apart in his hands and yet that still wasn't enough. 

Alex hated himself. 

It was easy for him to see how much this was hurting Luke and Reggie too. They were suffering because of him. He hated the fact that they felt sympathy for him. That they wasted countless hours attempting to silence his invasive thoughts. How they tried to accommodate all of his needs into their everyday lives even though that was impossible. And he hated the fact that they cared about him so much when his mind kept telling him over and over to hurt them. 

Thankfully, as they got more gigs, they were able to get enough money to start purchasing medication for Alex and afford a few therapy sessions for him. They were few and far between, but anything helped at this point. He was desperate to silence those thoughts in his head. Even if just for a few moments. 

Then, he died. And the one thing that he hoped for after he realized he was dead was that he would be free from his OCD. And, for a little while, it seemed like it. But it came back. Not as bad as before. But it was still there. Tell him that things were wrong and that he had to fix them but now it was even harder because he was dead. Still, he was grateful that it never got worse than habits he'd had ever since he was a kid. 

He still had to throw pillows and blankets on the ground of the studio and check every single one of the windows and before he could relax at night. Sometimes he felt covered in dirt but that'd pass after a few minutes and he'd be fine again. Still, he was embarrassed whenever he suddenly got invasive thoughts or impulses in front of Julie or anyone that didn't know about his OCD. 

Specifically Willie. 

When Alex first met Willie, he's been experiencing lots of invasive thoughts, most likely triggered from the anxiety he was feeling that day. He was terrified that he'd have to start doing things to calm his impulses and intrusive thoughts but then...they went silent. For the first time in Alex's life his worries and impulses and thoughts were silent. Replaced by warmth and peace and comfort and everything else that Willie was. 

Alex had never fallen harder. 

They'd begun dating a few weeks after Caleb's stamp disappeared from Alex, Luke, and Reggie's wrists, Willie still free to roam around as Caleb didn't suspect his as being the one who told them about unfinished business. But, Alex still hadn't told Willie about his OCD. He never felt the need to when Willie was around. He quieted all of those things. He was like the best medication that Alex had ever had. If they'd met while Alex was alive, Alex was positive that his OCD would still be raging and yelling at him no matter how much Willie was around. But being a ghost meant that souls were different. They could heal each other.

However, his best medication still didn't work once the sun set. 

Alex had been feeling anxious ever since Willie had invited him to stay a night at wherever Willie went in his free time. Ghosts didn't sleep, but they needed to relax sometimes. Energy was important even to dead people. But the moment Alex stepped foot into that small art studio with a couch that had a pull-out bed and a few plants hanging from the ceiling, he couldn't relax. Not a bit. 

"This was where I lived when I was alive," Willie explained to him. "Caleb...makes sure that I don't lose it. That's part of our deal. This place is really important to me and...I hope you like it." 

"I do like it," Alex said quietly, forcing a smile onto his face. "It's cool."

He did really like the place. It felt alive and warm just like Willie, with the plants and vibrant paint everywhere. But at the same time, his OCD wouldn't let him enjoy it. That plant was too close to the other plant. The paint was EVERYWHERE and Alex was starting to feel dirty even as he tried to focus on how pretty the paint looked. And the bed...as Willie unfolded the couch to reveal the bed, he also pulled out numerous blankets and pillows from a box that sat beside it and Alex immediately wanted to start piling them up around the bed all over the floor. 

Willie paused, looking over at Alex with a confused expression. "Alex, you alright man? You're fidgeting." 

"Just...just nervous," Alex lied, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking. "What're we gonna do?" 

"Just chill. I have a small portable television with some of my favorite old movies recorded onto it. I think you'd like them," Willie said. "Come on, hotdog. I'm not gonna bite." 

He patted the bed next to him and Alex forced himself to walk over to him and sit down, but he couldn't relax. He sat straight up, hands still in his pockets. Then, his brain went into autopilot. Alex started walking circles around the small room, looking out all the windows, locking and unlocking them each three times before walking around again and tapping them. Then, he started to pick up pillows before he realized that Willie was staring at him. 

"Alex, be honest with me. Do you want to be here?" he asked. 

He sounded a bit sad. Confused. Alex dropped the pillows, his brain yelling at him to keep going, put them on the floor with some more pillows and blankets so that he wouldn't break his arm again in the middle of the night. He was so embarrassed and he didn't know what to do. 

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I really want to be here, Willie but I..." 

His voice broke, and Alex teleported out of the room before Willie could ask more questions. Alex appeared in front of the Orpheum where he began to pace. There was a band playing. Maybe that could clear his head. It sounded like Heavy Metal. That should drown out his invasive thoughts and impulses, if only long enough to gather himself together enough to go back to Willie. 

If Willie even wanted him to go back. 

Pushing all his thoughts aside best he could, Alex walked into the Orpheum. It was deafeningly loud. And Alex loved it. He sat down, closed his eyes, and let the music carry him away into thoughtless bliss. Then, a leg pressed against his own, and the familiar scent of coconut shampoo and ozone cologne filled his nose. Willie was there. Alex didn't dare open his eyes. 

"Hey, Alex, I didn't take you as a fan of heavy metal," he chuckled, but Alex could hear that his voice was tight, and Willie's voice dropped a few levels in volume. "Alex, if you didn't want to be there, you could've told me." 

Finally, Alex opened his eyes. "It's not your fault, Willie. I really do think that your place is awesome. But...I..."

"Go on," Willie urged gently. 

"I have OCD," Alex whispered. 

Willie stared at him before bursting out into laughter. "Dude! With how nervous you were, I thought you were about to admit that you were cheating on me or something. You're OCD? You could've just said so." 

"But...my impulses. My intrusive thoughts. They're-"

"Normal," Willie said firmly, linking his fingers with Alex's. "Completely and totally normal. We all do weird things, man. It's a part of life. You being OCD is the least of my problems." 

"But sometimes...they make me think I want to hurt others. Even...even you sometimes. When you’re not around, though. You being around...usually makes it better,” Alex continued quietly. 

“Well, have you hurt anyone?” 

“...No.” 

“Do you think you ever will hurt anyone?” 

“I sure hope not.” 

“Okay then.” Willie stood up, grinning as he held out his hand for Alex to take again. “Then you, Alexander Mercer, are not a danger to me or anyone. You’re not going to act on those thoughts as long as they disgust you. I’m not scared, and I don’t think you’re weird. Now, tell me, what were you doing back there?” 

“I...it’s weird-” 

“Uh uh! Not weird. Normal,” Willie reminded him. “Continue.” 

“Well...I need to lock all windows and doors. Or else I don’t feel safe. And I usually need to lock and unlock it several times to make sure they’re secure. And...I like to put pillows and blankets all over the floor. Just in case I fall off the bed. Then I won’t have to worry about getting hurt,” Alex told him. 

Willie nodded knowingly, smiling as he helped Alex up off the ground. “Makes sense to me, dude. Pretty smart, actually. Would’ve saved me from two broken wrists if I’d put pillows on the floor and would’ve stopped my cat from being stolen if I’d properly locked the door.” 

Alex stared at him. “You had a cat?” 

“Yeah.” Willie looked a bit sad. “It’s okay, though. It was the old lady down the hall from my studio who took her. She took really good care of her, but I just couldn’t get her back because I had no proof of ownership. She was a stray.” 

“That sucks man,” Alex said apologetically. “Maybe we could get a cat someday?” 

Willie’s smile was stunning. “I’d like that, hotdog.”


End file.
